Death Becomes Us
by Ithlien
Summary: An AU fic for the end of season 6. Oz fic
1. One Down

One Down. Summary: An AU fic for Villains, what if Warren's axe had actually killed Willow instead of just stunning her  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or any of the characters or scenarios in this story.  
  
Distribution: Fanfiction.Net, www.thedarkmoon.homestead.com  
  
Feedback: Meh, don't really care anymore about reviews.. But if you do like my story check out my author thingy for my other fic or click on my website.  
  
AN: This fic is the result of W/O withdrawl and anger over Joss' latest ideas.  
  
**  
  
I got the call. I don't even know how they found my number. All I know is that I got the call.  
  
With that call, the world stopped. My life ended.  
  
A few days before, I felt something inside me get ripped out. As if half of me died. It took me hours to calm down, to stop shaking and be able to stand. I didn't know what had caused it, I didn't want to know. So, I ignored the feeling of dread inside me. Hoping it would eventually go away.  
  
But, with that call, reality was forced to step in. Harshly kicking away the bliss of denial.  
  
I had almost not answered the phone, but something within me forced me to pick it up. Xander had been the one to tell me.  
  
Warren had walked into Buffy's backyard and had shot Buffy, almost killing her. While in the process of trying to kill Buffy, Warren accidentally killed Tara.  
  
I remember at that point of the conversation I had actually breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
Not because Tara's death didn't matter to me, it did. No fellow human being deserves to die. Especially not like that, accidentally at the hands of a madman.  
  
I was relieved the call hadn't been about Willow.  
  
Yeah.. I know, pathetic. Almost three years and I'm still pining for my lost love. Holding out on the belief that we would be together as we once promised we would.  
  
That's when I realised the call wasn't over yet.  
  
When I had last visited I had given Xander my number only to call for the worst of the worst emergencies.  
  
Why would he call someone we hadn't even known Tara, to inform them about her death? There had to be more to the story.  
  
Willow had gone on a rampage; she stormed off into the Magic Box and invoked some dark mojo. She went after Warren, but she was so blinded with rage that she didn't.. she didn't hear him coming. He killed her.  
  
He. Killed. Her.  
  
My Willow. Dead.  
  
Sorry, I still can't fully comprehend her death. I almost wish I hadn't asked how she died.  
  
He shoved an axe into her back. The axe was supposedly made with dark magic. Darker than what Willow could ever produce. It killed her.  
  
Warren ran. To escape the Slayer's wrath.  
  
Buffy tracked that asshole for weeks. She used every means possible. Everything from expensive locator spells done by the best Sorcerers in the world, to the latest technology provided by the Initiative.  
  
She and Giles somehow even managed to talk to Watcher's Council into helping out with the search.  
  
No dice.  
  
I remember Willow's funeral. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. I never regretted my decision to leave Sunnydale as much as I did then. My mind was plagued with "What if" scenarios. I could have stopped her from magic. I'm positive I could have. I had warned her that magic was dangerous. If only..  
  
God.. If only..  
  
So, I took Willow's murder into my own capable hands. Forget high-tech equipment. All you need to a werewolf's nose and the right amount of fury. It took me awhile to find him. He was somewhere isolated in the Yukon.  
  
Good. Isolation is good. No one can hear you scream.  
  
I found him sitting in front of a fire in an antique rocking chair.  
  
He didn't even care that he had killed something as precious as Willow.  
  
I approached him. He didn't even know who I was. How should he? I was long gone in Sunnydale when he had come around.  
  
I merely looked at him and uttered one word. "Willow." His eyes widened with fear. He tried to escape.  
  
I wolfed out before he even stood up. He didn't even have a chance to invoke a spell of protection.  
  
I don't remember much about that night. The next morning when I woke up, I was covered in his blood. I didn't even care.  
  
I washed up. Ditched the remains and headed back home. To Sunnydale. Next stop: Sunnydale Jail.  
  
One down.. Two to go.. 


	2. Two to Go

Two to Go  
  
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all surrounding characters are owned by Joss Whedon and the fine people at Mutant Enemy. I make nothing. but that's obvious.  
  
Authors Note: Thanks to Karen, I wrote a sequel to my fic. I didn't think it was possible but here it is. I'm thinking about writing a third installment but I'm not sure. As always check out my W/O site at www.thedarkmoon.homestead.com  
  
**  
  
"Dawnie, I know that you're hurting. We're hurting too. And I know that right now that the pain feels like it will never go away, and that you don't understand and that you don't want to understand."  
  
" I understand. Willow and Tara are dead. And Warren's just gonna walk away. He doesn't even care.... But we can change that. We can hurt him."  
  
" No, no we can't. We can't hurt humans."  
  
" Why not? Warren did. Anya did. Spike did. You did."  
  
" I didn't have a choice. Faith was..she was out of control."  
  
" You don't care do you? It's just like when mom died, you didn't care then and you don't care now."  
  
" How can you say that to me?" Buffy asked, tears falling down her face. She waited for an apology that she knew would never come before she trudged out of the room. She had hunting to do.  
  
" Dawn. You're upset. I get that. But lashing out at us won't help. Buffy may be the Slayer, but she needs us. She may be in more pain than any of us right now. She blames herself."  
  
Dawn looked up at Xander, her eyes dry and hard. "She should."  
  
**  
  
And time passed, slowly and uneventfully as it so rarely did in Sunnydale.  
  
Monsters and Demons feared to leave their lairs. Word on the street was that the slayer and her minions were pissed about the deaths of some close friends.  
  
According to a Gorgonthon demon, the Slayer staked out Willy's Bar nightly. Saying that she was looking for a human.  
  
"Can you believe it?" Demons would mutter astounded. "A human in a demon bar? Not one ever had the balls to step inside, let alone order some drinks."  
  
But, rumor has it that a human some months back had come into one of the major demon bars ranting that he had killed the Great Slayer.  
  
"Apparently", Miles, a Draconian demon said, "the kid claimed he had shot the Slayer with a gun".  
  
A gun?  
  
All the demons agreed that, had the slayer died she'd have deserved a better death. To have her heart ripped out would be an honorable death, but a lowly human death by a gun was just too human for the demons to contemplate.  
  
According to a Carthken demon in Eastern Europe, the Initiative was also looking for a human.  
  
The Initiative!  
  
The Slayer, it seemed, had pulled out the big guns. all just to catch a lone human.  
  
This human must be powerful, all the demons concluded. Why else would the Slayer beg on hand and knees to the shunned Watchers Council? Begging for a Witch to perform a locator spell.  
  
Of course most demons were confused by this act. Didn't the Slayer already have two witches in her possession?  
  
Apparently not anymore.  
  
So things stayed unusually quiet in Sunnydale. The demons on their best behaviour, refused to cross the path of the angry Slayer.  
  
But luckily.according to Chaos, a demon from South Central, there was going to be a free for all in Los Angeles soon.  
  
One could only stay quiet for so long.  
  
**  
  
"You're sure? Positive? Yes Giles, I realize you would have double checked everything before calling but.. I'm grasping for straws here. I can't face losing anyone else." Buffy softly placed her kitchen phone back on its cradle. Trying to understand the significance of her mentor's words.  
  
A werewolf kill was discovered; somewhere up in the Canadian north.  
  
Sources say the victim's remains were that of Warren.  
  
A werewolf kill.  
  
And Warren.  
  
It couldn't be.  
  
And yet, it had to be. It didn't make sense though. Oz had promised her he would do nothing, that humans didn't deserve to die. That no one did. He promised her, he would do nothing.  
  
He swore on Willow's grave.  
  
And yet..  
  
**  
  
Their time was slowly dieing out. Jonathon could feel it. There was something different in the air, something important had happened.  
  
Perhaps it was ominous thunder that told him so, or that nifty Star Trek like guidance spell he had preformed earlier..  
  
Or maybe it was the fact that the Slayer had guided them out of the jail cell and into the old Angelus Mansion.  
  
She looked kind of ..pissed. More so than usual.  
  
But then again, not only had she been pulled from Heaven but her friends had also died.  
  
All because the Trioka had gotten too big for their Ferengi ears. If only Warren had stopped.. If only he had had the courage to stand up to them earlier.  
  
If only Andrew would stop believing the Warren was coming back to save them.  
  
" Someone is trying to kill you. We have to leave."  
  
Jonathon looked up curiously, wondering why she'd even care. "Who?"  
  
" You'd be surprised." Buffy's stepped into the slight sliver of moonlight the shone into the Mansion. Her body began to quake, and melt. Her face puddled to the floor.  
  
All that remained was..  
  
Oz?  
  
**  
  
"I think I always knew it would come to this. Not with you per say. But this situation. I was destined for it. I fought against the inevitable saying that I wasn't a murderer, that Veruca's death was justified. And you know what I've come to realize boys?"  
  
"w-wWhat?" Andrew squeaked, cowering into a corner.  
  
"There is no such thing as a justified death. There is only death. I don't think either of you realize what kind of hell you brought onto your lives."  
  
" Please. You're a good guy. You don't kill people." Jonathon pleaded. Oz was a good guy; they used to hang sometimes in High School. Oz was cool. He wasn't a murderer.  
  
" Hmm.. I don't kill people? Maybe you're right. Maybe when I woke up after the transformation, Warren threw himself into a shredder. But how would that explain all the blood on me?  
  
" Oh god." Andrew moaned in the background, sliding to the floor.  
  
" God won't help you now."  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
" I'm the ex. I don't expect you to know me Andrew. I'm not that presumptuous, but Jonathon you should. You should remember Willow more vividly. You've known her for what? 20 years? And then you allowed her to be killed."  
  
"It wasn't like that. God, if I could change it.. I would. She was my friend too. Warren was out of control. We had no idea what he had done until it was far too late. I'm sorry."  
  
" What are you going to do to us?" Andrew quietly sobbed.  
  
" That's funny.... You know I really didn't plan anything. So.." Oz smiled." Let's just play it by ear shall we?"  
  
The end was near. It was obvious now.  
  
But for who?  
  
The End  
  
Author's Note: Okay I'll admit it. That isn't an ending. Possibly because I'm half way through the second chapter. I had this done for a year now. I can't believe I forgot to post it. I want to sincerely thank everyone who reviewed. You'll never know how far you all carried me. Thank You. 


	3. Into the Dark

Into the Dark 

Summary: An AU fic for Villains, what if Warren's axe had actually killed Willow instead of just stunning her

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or any of the characters or scenarios in this story.

Distribution: Fanfiction.Net,  www.thedarkmoon.homestead.com

AN: The end of this fiction completely changed over to what I had previously written.****

**

He stood waiting in the darkness. He leaned, almost mockingly against the camouflage of a tower brick wall. He felt the moonlight fall over him in a non-existent shower, and wished, not for the first time, that he could feel the warmth of the night. He took a slow steady drag of his cigarette before, almost unknowingly, pitching it to the damp earth. With a slight rolling of eyes, he strutted into the Mansion.

For a moment, he almost didn't recognize the short man who stood wielding no other weapon than himself. Even from the back, Spike could see, the kid was too far-gone.

He never understood why he had gone to the jail when he did. Part of him went, because Buffy asked him to protect the whimpering weasels, and a larger part went to… God forbid… avenge the deaths of the witches. Red has always been kind to him, and spunky as hell. Even when he was the big bad of Sunnydale, threatening to kill her, she still put on a brave face. Quite unlike the pollocks in front of him who were reduced to a whimpering mass. He never really knew Tara, she was a quiet broad, too quiet for him. But, in her own silent way she reminded him of the headstrong Joyce Summers, who was the first woman to really understand him. 

Raising an eyebrow, he was almost tempted to leave and let the bloody werewolf finish his business. Eye for eye, so to speak. But, the pesky newly acquired soul stopped him. Informing him that something had to be done before the boy went too far into the dark. Like Willow or hell, even Warren.

" My light is gone." The boy whispered. "She was the only thing that held me back from unleashing. From hurting people like you. She was my light, my guide, my hope. You took her away."

"No. No!" Andrew pleaded. " That was Warren, it was all Warren."

The red head growled softly, so softly that Spike even doubt that he had heard it at all. The boy's shadow elongated and a loud guttural groan filled the uneasy silence.

" Time's up." Oz advanced, in a deep inhuman voice. The mixture of wolf and man had made his voice raw and edgy, though it must have been difficult to speak in a semi-wolf form Oz managed it nonetheless.

Andrew, in a bolt of fear, tried to make it past Oz and head for the door of the Mansion, only to be swatted down. He held his bleeding shoulder gingerly, knowing what it meant to be bled by a werewolf and also knowing that it wouldn't matter because he was down anyways. He wished for light saber.

Oz advanced of the two hostages. Their squeals grew louder until Spike knew he had to go in. Being a vampire made sneaking easy, even supernaturals like werewolves had difficult making out a vampire lurking. The loudness of Andrew and Jonathon's prayers and in the insanity of the smell of their fear he became virtually invisible. He roughly grabbed Oz from behind and threw him against the wall. While the boy was stunned from the sudden attack, Spike took out the tranq gun and shot the young werewolf with enough tranquilizers to subdue a runaway elephant.

Spike turned to the last remaining member of the Troika. "What the hell are you waiting for?" The two nodded at him and shakily got to their feet. Just as they walked past him, he grabbed a hold of them and turned the two to face him. " If I ever see your faces in Sunnydale again, I will not hesitate to bite your worthless heads off." He growled, bringing out his vampire visage.

The moment he let them go, the two ran faster than he ever thought a nerd could run.

When he turned back to the werewolf, Oz was already partially transformed and waking up. It seemed he already built up a resistance to tranquilizers.

Spike held the gun steady, normally he would resort to using human machinery to take down a foe, but Buffy had pleaded she wanted him back alive. 

Oz glared at him from his seated position. His eyes darting around the room. Gingerly touch his forehead to check out blood. " I need to complete my mission."

" She's gone, Mongrel. No matter how many you kill she won't come back."

The boy struggled to his feet, for a moment or two he held his attention on Spike, but then it slowly once again drifted around the room. " Buffy came back." He said softly, " Tara didn't. I promised I'd protect her."

Suddenly and light flickered in the back of Spike's head, something didn't seem right about the werewolf, the lycanthrope grinned seeing Spike's growing discomfort. 

**

The Summer's residence used to be full of life. Throughout the years different people would come in and out of the house, some of them laughing, other's crying a few even swearing revenge. Whichever way it was, there was always some sort of light in the house.

But for the past few years the house had steadily grown quieter. With each loss, the house and it's patron's died a little. Finally, the house had become silent; a morgue. With Tara and Willow's death, few found reason to speak or laugh. Some days the final four would simply sit around the table silently wondering who would be next. Who would be the next to leave the house and never return?

Death had claimed many, too many. There was a time when there was a drive; an ambition to fight it but that too was slowly dying. 

Now, another Scooby was in trouble. Far over his head, driven his stoic mind to the edge. Buffy prayed for his safety and his mind, but mostly she prayed for herself.

The silence was shattered by another telephone call. Telephones never seem to carry good news to the Summer's house. All calls lead to ruin.

Mystical energy and ectoplasmic readings were off the charts in Sunnydale.

Someone was back. And seriously pissed off. 

**

Oz stood eying up Spike, looking ready to attack any moment. But suddenly his newfound strength passed from him. Oz stood shaking for a moment, looking more lost than before. 

" I tried." The boy whispered, falling once again to the floor. He looked at his hands as if her had never seen them before, as if he had forgotten the power they held. " Oh god…"

Spike stood back silently and watched the young werewolf, as he began mutter nonsense under his breath. Often the only words Spike could make out were, " I'm sorry" and "I can't."

Oz's eccentric sentences and occasional sweeps of the room reminded Spike heavily of his summer in the basement. Plagued by guilts of the past and people who were never really there. 

Suddenly he understood. A feeling he had felt all along, a prickling at the back of the neck. He understood. Feigning an air of calm Spike lit another cigarette and walked towards Oz. He bent down to look the boy in the eyes, which were wide open and wild. 

" Oz." He murmured getting the boy's attention. " Do you see her? Is she here."

" Everywhere." Oz whispered brokenly after a moment's doubt "She won't leave. I promised her…"

" Oz, Buffy can bring you back. She can help you. What you're seeing isn't real."

" I promised." Oz repeated dully, his eyes dimmed. A white pallor began to show on his face and he breathed shallowly, his eyes darting around the room. " I promised."

Unnerved by Oz's appearance, Spike stood back. He watched in shock as the boy's hue went from white, to a sickly green and finally to a dull grey. 

Spike cigarette fell unnoticed out of his mouth, as he grimly pulled a cellphone out of his trench coat pocket and speed dialed Buffy.  

Death had claimed another member. 

Spike felt for the loss of the fellow Scooby. He understood the boy's search for light. He only wished that Oz had realized that the light had already died out.

That all he was searching for was the darkness left behind.

**

Belief is such an empty word. So fake, so…pathetic. When you're young you believe in whatever your parents tell you… The Easter Bunny, The tooth fairy. Whatever.

When you get older you believe that love will survive. That it's the one thing that can't be broken down or bought out.

How stupid I was to believe in it.

Belief is nothing more than a handkerchief blinding your eyes with a passionate red. Belief that… hey, don't worry! He'll come back to you… He loves you remember. He'll be back.

Sure, he came back. A few months too late.

Belief that love can defeat even death, that it can some how transcend everything. That because you've been a good little girl for most of your life the Powers That be will bring _her_ back.

See, pathetic. I am alone. I am unloved. All because I believed in a pathetic thing called love.

But now I'm stronger. In every sense imaginable. I believe in a new mistress now. 

Revenge.

Who needs a body? I have a mind. A brilliant one. Capable of anything imaginable.

All's Fair in Love and War, remember?

Finis 

AN: 

So in the end Willow gets her revenge. Maybe in some perverse way this is a happy ending. Willow, Oz and Tara reunited at last….

Well not so much as Willow's still floating around out there.  


End file.
